worry about us."

Mrs. Horton and Harriet stood at the parlor windows and watched Sunny
Boy go down the street, holding fast to his daddy's hand. The snow did
not drive in their faces, and it did not seem very cold.

"I like it, don't you?" cried Sunny Boy, tramping along in his rubber
boots and wishing that Daddy could walk to school with him every
morning.

Here and there they saw a man shoveling the sidewalk, and already teams
of horses and carts were standing at the street corners while gangs of
men and boys shoveled snow into them.

"Where do they take the snow?" asked Sunny Boy. "Why don't they leave
it on the street so people can go coasting?"

"Well, you see, Sunny Boy, if the snow wasn't carried away, the baker's
horse might not be able to bring us any rolls for breakfast and perhaps
the milkman couldn't bring us any milk," Mr. Horton answered. "And the
people who are cold would not be able to get any coal for their fires.
The boys and girls might go coasting, but the horses and wagons and
motor trucks would find it hard going. It is much wiser to carry the
snow away as fast as it falls. I think it is taken out into the
country and there emptied on waste land."

"I wonder if Mr. Parkney likes it to snow," said Sunny Boy, who always
thought of the Parkney family when any one mentioned the country.
"When can we go see him, Daddy?"